


Pushed Too Far

by OnlyTheInevitable



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, Episode: s03e17 Pusher, F/M, Russian Roulette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:14:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26434021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyTheInevitable/pseuds/OnlyTheInevitable
Summary: What if Modell chose to play Russian Roulette with Scully instead of Mulder?
Relationships: Fox Mulder & Dana Scully, Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 23
Kudos: 170
Collections: X-Files Episode Fanfic Exchange (2020)





	Pushed Too Far

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ceruleanmilieu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceruleanmilieu/gifts).



> This fic is for the lovely Laura (ceruleanmilieu), whom I haven't had the pleasure of writing for yet! Her episode was "Pusher" and her prompt was: What if... Scully faced Modell instead of Mulder? How would the showdown be different? How would Mulder react?
> 
> I was SO pumped to get this prompt and I hope I did it justice! Canonically, everything is the same up until this point where I start to take creative liberties ;)
> 
> Thank you so, so much to my betas Annie, Jaime, and Monika! You guys helped me despite my procrastination and I am so appreciative!

_Mulder's in danger._

The image of Modell pointing his gun at Mulder before the footage was shut off was all she could think of as she slid her shaking arms into the bulletproof vest. Her mind flashed to images of Frank Burstgrabbing his chest, his face contorted in pain, of Agent Collins' panic as he pleaded with them to stop him from lighting himself on fire.

What was he going to do to Mulder?

"Agent Scully!" a voice cried from behind her.

She pivoted around and saw the SWAT Lieutenant pressing his fingers against his ear piece. "What?" she asked, snappier than she'd intended, fumbling to secure the vest to her body.

The Lieutenant looked anxious, his eyebrows set in a deep furrow. "It's Agent Mulder, he says," he paused, listening and each millisecond felt like an eternity.

"Agent Mulder says what?" she asked impatiently.

He took his fingers away from his ear and looked her straight in the eye. "Only you can go in. If anyone other than you sets foot in the building, Mulder's dead."

She froze for a moment, dread at what was to come suffocating her. The Lieutenant noticed and said, "We'll stay right outside the doors. As soon as you give us a signal, we'll storm in."

Scully nodded in agreement and handed her gun to him. "Not until my signal," she reiterated before spinning around and running into the building, weaving around the patients and hospital staff fleeing the scene.

She ran through the doors, into the foyer of the hospital before slowing down, trying to listen for any signs of Mulder or Modell. She could hear the sounds of screaming outside, general panic, but aside from other miscellaneous sounds of hospital machinery, she couldn't hear Mulder.

Scully remembered the route Mulder had taken from the surveillance footage, and she decided to follow the same path carefully. When she got to the nurses station in the ICU, she saw the bodies that had been shot. This was the last thing she saw from Mulder's eyes before his camera was taken off. The thought made her throat tighten. Taking her time, she walked quietly and looked around, trying to take everything in she could.

A small shuffle in her periphery caught her attention and she looked up to see Mulder laying on the ground. "Mulder!" she shouted, running over and falling to her knees beside him.

Mulder blinked slowly and mumbled, "The hospital is so quiet."

"What?" Scully asked hurriedly, trying to do an evaluation of his condition. She brushed back his hair and directed his face with the palm of her hand so that he'd look at her. His eyes weren't blown out and she couldn't find any blood on him.

"It's so quiet," Mulder exhaled before adding, "I lost Modell."

"Did he hurt you?" she inquired, her hands roaming his body in search of an injury. In the back of her mind, she realized he was right. The rest of the hospital was silent compared to a few minutes ago. It had the same foreboding effect as when cicadas stop singing before a storm.

When she was at his vest, he grabbed her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "No, he just knocked the wind out of me for a second," he explained, letting Scully help him sit up.

"Come on, Mulder," she husked, helping him stand to his feet. "We need to get you out of here."

"No, we need to stay," Mulder insisted in a desperate voice, grabbing her hand.

He was right, she realized. They couldn't run the risk of stumbling across Modell in the hallway. "Do you know where he might have gone?" she asked, watching as he chewed his bottom lip and looked around anxiously.

"No, but follow me. Let's avoid being out in the open," Mulder said. "Tell me, where do you think he might have gone? A man like that? What do you think he's thinking right now?" he asked as she followed behind him.

Without hesitation she answered, "I think he's still here. This is his big moment. He wouldn't leave the stage during his final performance."

"Why do you think that?" Mulder asked, putting his hand on her upper back and guiding her around the corner, checking over their shoulders in paranoia.

"It's like I told you, Mulder. He's a little man who wants to feel important. He finally has your attention and he's been vying for it since this case started. Modell wouldn't let that go to waste," she explained.

She glanced up and saw Mulder considering her words, his brows furrowed in concentration. He opened a door to a patient's room and said, "Let's hide in here, Dana."

She'd stepped one foot into the room before she froze.

_Dana._

She didn't say anything, she just spun on her heel to turn away, but she was too late. "Stop," the voice of Modell commanded. It was like the veil had been lifted and she could see everything for what it was. Modell was standing next to her with a piece of paper pinned to his chest that read _Mulder._

She heard Mulder's voice screaming, "Don't listen to him, Scully!" and she turned to see he'd been stationed at one of the chairs at the table in front of them - his face red from screaming.

" _It's so quiet"_

Her eyes fluttered shut in defeat as she realized she'd played right into Modell's trap. "Have a seat," he told her and she felt her legs moving in compliance. He suggested it and her mind accepted it, like the part of the brain responsible for processing and decision making was suddenly gone and everything was justifiable.

She sat down in one of the cold hospital chairs and spared a glance at Mulder. He looked like he wanted to lunge towards Modell and strangle him, anxiety riddled across his expression. Scully jumped at the sound of metal scraping across the linoleum as Modell sat across from her.

"Take off your bulletproof vest, and throw it next to Mulder's," he demanded.

She complied, despite trying to mentally resist. She could feel drops of sweat starting to bead at her brow and she wished she could have seen through him. Modell watched her intently and waited for her to be done before he spoke. "I'm glad we can all be here together."

"She doesn't have to be here. This is between us, Modell," Mulder implored.

Modell turned to him and shook his head. "That's awfully rude, Mulder. You two are a team aren't you? At least, that's what I read in your files. Besides," he said, turning his head to Scully. "She really wanted to see you."

"I'm the one you wanted," Mulder reiterated.

"Things change," Modell shrugged."When she first saw me, or should I say _you,_ in the hallway, do you know what she did, Mulder?" Modell asked slowly, keeping eye contact on her even though he wasn't speaking to her.

She didn't know where he was going with this, but she felt a wave of unease settle at the pit of her stomach. She didn't like people making commentary on her relationship with Mulder, let alone in such an invasive way.

Mulder said nothing in response to his question, but it didn't seem to deter Modell. "I was laying on the ground and she fell to her knees in worry. I could see it in her eyes, fear quickly making way for relief when she realized I was fine. I'm not used to that. Someone caring. Curiosity, sure, but relief? Dare I say happiness that I was alive? No."

Modell's gaze had turned from that of a cat playing with a mouse to one of affection and it somehow managed to make her more uncomfortable than she was before. She dropped her eyes to her lap before glancing at Mulder, catching his worried gaze before he turned his attention away.

"What's your point, Modell," Mulder exhaled gruffly.

"Do you remember what I said to you when we spoke on the phone for the first time?" Modell asked in a quick change of topic.

Scully felt her brows furrow as she tried to recall what had transpired on the phone. That was the night of the stakeout when she'd fallen asleep and she'd been a little groggy while trying to listen in to their conversation. She'd also missed part of it while getting the trace. What was he referencing? _Let your fingers do the walking?_

"I don't know what you're talking about," Mulder stated firmly. She knew Mulder well enough to know he was uncomfortable and she started to feel nervous thinking about what this information was she hadn't been privy to.

"With a memory like that? Yes you do." Modell chuckled sardonically before commanding: "Tell her."

"You asked if we were going to stay there all night. That you'd been watching us," he admitted, swallowing uncomfortably. She felt her heart rate pick up at the implication. They weren't doing anything out of the ordinary, but just knowing they were being watched when they thought they were alone made her skin crawl.

"After that," Modell goaded.

"You said me and my _pretty partner_ looked awfully close and you asked if we worked well together," Mulder replied in a strained voice that told Scully he didn't want to say the words coming out of his mouth.

"Do _you_ think she's pretty Mulder?" Modell asked.

Scully felt heat rush to her face and she let her eyes flutter shut. He was trying to embarrass them. His line of questioning felt like a perverse invasion of their relationship which meant the world to her. "Stop," she stated, but it only came out as a weak whisper.

Paying her no mind, Modell commanded, "Answer me."

"Yes." Mulder's answer sounded like it was being ripped from his very throat.

"Yes, what?" Modell asked with a smirk.

"I think she's pretty," Mulder replied, his body shifting restlessly in his seat despite his inability to move fully.

"Stop it," Scully replied, fimer and louder than the first time, causing Modell to look back at her while Mulder looked away. Having his attention, she added, "That's enough."

"Why? Don't you want to know how your partner feels about you?" Modell asked, sending a taunting smirk to Mulder.

"This isn't why we're here," Scully replied sharply, causing him to smirk.

"Why not? I could convince you guys to act on these feelings you seem to be repressing," Modell laughed. Scully tensed and she saw Mulder's jaw clench as he stared at the man with anxious fury.

"No. That's not your M.O. Modell. You may be a bastard with no regards to other people's lives, but you aren't a pervert," Scully stated, her voice hiding the fear she felt. She knew he was only suggesting it because it was a sick powerplay. An act of the little man trying to have an upper hand.

Modell looked at her evenly, masking whatever he was thinking. The room was still for a moment, like the anticipation of a neck and neck chess match coming to its end but no one knowing what the outcome will be. "Do you know how lucky you two are? To have someone care so deeply about you?" he asked suddenly.

"Is that what this is about? Loneliness?" she asked, relieved the conversation was deflecting from herself.

Modell chuckled humorlessly and sat up in his seat. "That's not what you think? Is it, Dana?" The use of her first name startled her a bit, but she kept her reaction hidden behind a mask of indifference.

Taking her lack of an answer as an answer in and of itself, he continued. "What did you call me? A _little man_?"

_Shit._

She looked towards Mulder and she could see he was so tense, beads of sweat were running down his forehead, accentuating a protruding vein on his temple. She didn't know how to get them out of here and every passing moment made her feel like they were being buried under the weight of sand in a dwindling hourglass. The accompanying score of the beeping life support machine running in the background only served to add an extra element of morbidity.

"That was rude of me," she started, only to be interrupted.

"But you believe it, don't you?" Modell asked, leaning forward.

She looked deeply into his eyes. There was nothing special about this man. He was fragile, dressed in a thin hospital gown, injuries adorning his face, sweat sliding down gaunt, pale features. This was the portrait of exhaustion, yet he possessed the ability to render both Mulder and herself immobile, malleable to his whim.

"You're sick," she murmured softly. If it was her callous analysis of him that had put them in this situation, she would try the opposite: try to empathize with him. "Things are happening to your body that are out of your control and you're desperate to find what little control you can. I can barely begin to imagine how life-shattering your diagnosis must be-"

"I didn't bring you here for this," Modell interrupted, amusement fading from his gaze.

"What exactly are we here for then, Modell?" Scully asked, her nails leaving crescent shaped indents in the palms of her hands.

"Do you know the etymology of the name Scully?" he asked, shifting topics. "I didn't until I read your file and did a little digging of my own."

A highschool project on family ancestry came up from the recesses of her brain and she answered, "It's ancient Irish Gaelic. It means 'descendant of the scholar'."

A pleased smile crossed Modell's face as he grabbed the gun that had been resting on the table. "That's correct."

"What does t-" she began, only to get cut off again.

"Two warriors of equal skill fight to the death. One is a student of Japanese budo... the way of war." As he said this, he spun the barrel of the gun like it was a roulette wheel, the bullet making a hazy brass circle in the air. She tried not to let her gaze focus on it for too long.

"Budo teaches the warrior to leave himself outside the battle. In other words…" He punctuated the sentence by snapping the chamber back into place. "To disregard his own death. Because of that, the budo warrior always wins. I am that warrior. You, Special Agent Scully, are a student of medicine, dedicated to saving and preserving lives. In a way we are like the symbol of dualism in Chinese Philosophy, Yin and Yang," he explained before sliding the metal of the gun against the table towards her. "I want to see which one fate favors."

Realization dawned on her and her eyes widened in dread. "No," she whispered.

"I'm going to give you... one pull of the trigger against me. A one-in-six chance," he explained.

"I don't want to play, Modell. You don't want to do this, there's pure oxygen in this room. There's no telling what could happen if you pull that trigger," she explained, not caring if he could see the tears welling on her lash line, threatening to spill over.

"You'll play. Pick up the gun and take your turn," Modell commanded.

"Leave her alone," Mulder rasped in a pained voice between gritted teeth, only to be silenced by a look from Modell.

She'd just processed his words by the time she felt the cold weight of the gun in her hand. She could see her hand was trembling as she raised it, aiming at Modell's left shoulder.

"Scully, Scully," he said in the mocking intonation of _tsk tsk._ "Don't shoot to spare like you did with Mulder. I know you've shot people before," Modell raised his clammy, cold hand and placed it over her own, smaller one, guiding the gun up until the barrel was pressing into his forehead. "Play right or I'll make Mulder step in."

Speaking of Mulder, she could sense tension radiating off of him, especially when Modell had touched her. Mulder hated helplessness and she could only imagine how much he was struggling. "Come on, Modell. This has always been between you and me. Leave her out of this."

Modell let go of her hand and ignored Mulder. "Do it."

The harsh sound of the hammer of the gun snapping was the unneeded exclamation mark of his statement and a gasp tore from her throat as she realized she'd pulled the trigger.

"Your turn," he commanded.

In a flash Mulder tore himself from his seat with an animalistic growl, and before she could process what was happening, he had one hand around Scully's frame, grabbing her wrist, while the other one stretched in front of her to try and grab the gun from her hand.

"Don't let him take it, Scully," Modell stated coolly. She knew she couldn't, she didn't want to play, but Mulder was too invested. She didn't want to see how it would mentally destroy him to fall privy to Modell's sick and twisted version of suicide-by-cop. She also couldn't bear the thought of him holding a gun to himself.

"Mulder, don't," she cried out, pushing him away feebly with her elbow.

"Scully," he pleaded, his right hand completely engulfing her wrist as the fingers of his other hand interlaced with her own around the gun.

The thought of him putting the gun to his head flashed in her mind and she squirmed away from him, her other hand came up to his chest in an attempt to push him away, but it was like pushing at concrete. "Stop, Mulder," she shouted, shucking him off with as much strength as she could.

He backed away and she could see the distress in his eyes. Mulder was looking at her with so much pain it was hard to meet his gaze. _Why hadn't she let him take the gun? Modell hadn't been controlling him then. He could have taken over the situation._

She instantly realized her prior line of thought, while she'd firmly believed it at the time, was just Modell's influence at work, mentally convincing herself of his persuasion. She felt a rush of hot embarrassment flush her features and she tried her best to keep her lip from quivering at the futility of it all.

"Sit down and watch quietly, Mulder. Or this will conclude without the possibility of a happy ending for you," Modell insisted. Mulder did as he was told and Scully could practically see his erratic heartbeat on his glistening temple. She could only imagine how he was feeling.

"I'm sorry," she whispered in a quivering voice.

Mulder looked up and, even though Modell had rendered him speechless, the words were clear. _Me too._

"Your. Turn." Modell reiterated.

The gun went to her head like an automatic reflex, but she tried to reign in as much control as she could. With a trembling hand, she lowered the gun to her chest, aiming for her heart. If she couldn't get out of this, she didn't want to traumatize Mulder with the image of putting a bullet through her head, her brains splattering over the white walls like a disturbed Rorschach test.

_What do you see here, Mulder?_

_Regret_

_My partner_

_Two lives ending with one bullet_

"Scully," Modell said in a sing-song voice, pulling her back.

"I don't want to die," she stated, a hot tear streaking down her cheek. "I don't want Mulder to see this."

"Fifty-fifty chance," he replied with a shrug. Then, in a stern tone reiterated, "Do it."

Unlike the past few times, she was able to reign in control. She just had to tune him out and try as hard as she possibly could to root herself in reality and deny what he was saying. _She doesn't want to die. She wants to live. Mulder wouldn't recover. She has to stay alive. Her mom would be devastated. She's had too much loss. She couldn't be responsible for her mother losing two daughters within a year of each other, especially not having her husband to comfort her. She couldn't die. She wouldn't._

Scully felt another tear roll down her cheek as her heart felt heavy, her body already exhausted from the effort it was taking to stay in control. She could feel sweat rolling down her back as she trembled in place. In the distance she could hear Mulder telling her to fight while Modell screamed at her to do it. That she could join her father and sister. She could finally meet them in the heaven she loved so much. They were waiting for her. They want to see her again. Doesn't she want to see them too?

_Ahab._

_Missy._

_She missed them so much._

Scully was brought out of her trance by the hollow sound of the hammer snapping and the gun jolting slightly against her chest. Her eyes widened as her mouth dropped open. Everything had been fuzzy before, as if she was swimming underwater but in this moment had finally surfaced and everything was becoming clear. She'd shot herself. The round was empty, but she'd shot herself all the same.

"No!" Mulder roared, standing up and slamming his hands as hard as he could on the table. "Damn you, you bastard! Scully, give me the gun-" He reached out to grab it away from her chest, but Modell reached out a hand and stopped him, freezing him in place with just a look.

"Looks like he's jealous, Scully," Modell goaded with a twisted smile. "He can have a turn."

Realization coursed through her veins like ice and she shook her head firmly. "No, you said fifty-fifty."

"The rules have changed," he shrugged. "His turn."

Scully felt her hand shake as she moved the gun from her chest to aim at Mulder. _Not him, not him, not him_ kept repeating through her mind like a desperate chant as tears clouded her vision, warping the image of Mulder's face.

"Modell, let me do it myself. It's only fair," Mulder stated calmly. She knew he was offering, not out of a desire to actually do it himself, but because he knew it would destroy her if she killed him. "Don't make her do this."

"I won't shoot him," she cried out between clenched teeth.

"Yes, you will," Modell replied evenly.

_No, I won't. No, I won't. No, I won't._

"Scully, it's okay," Mulder whispered softly, looking at her tenderly with a serene expression on his face. He was trying to make it easier on her for when she sho-

"Shut up, Mulder!" Scully screamed. She couldn't be distracted from her internal mantra by his goddamned attempt at selflessness. _I won't shoot him. Mulder will stay alive. I will not shoot him._

"Yeah, shut up, Mulder!" Modell mimicked with amusement laden in his voice. "Do it, Scully. He's never trusted you anyway. He's a joke. A laughingstock. Being near him will be the ruin of all you've worked for."

"No," Scully whimpered in reply, her eyes wide as she struggled for control. _Mulder will stay alive. I will not shoot Mulder. I will not pull the trigger. This is my body and I am in control._

"He doesn't even like you. You're just a little spy. You're in his way," Modell taunted.

"I'm going to kill you, Modell," Mulder yelled, sweat dripping down his face.

He turned to Scully and resumed his gentle tone from earlier. "You've got this, Scully. You're in control. Don't listen to him. He's lying."

She focused on the hazel of his eyes. Everything about him was a comfort.

_I love him. I love him. I love him._

"Mulder, go!" she yelled, her voice cracking while ignoring the sound of Modell's voice until it was a distant murmur. "Get out of here, Mulder! Run!"

She watched as Mulder's form retreated into the hallway and reality snapped back into place with the ringing of the fire alarm. In her periphery she saw Modell lean forward and she jumped up, turned towards him, and shot. _Not again._

Unlike the previous two times, the hammer was muted by the sound of a bullet leaving the chamber and the roar of Modell as he fell backwards.

_That would have been Mulder's bullet._

The simple thought made her sick and she felt her finger squeezing again and again. She wasn't sure what she was shooting for since Modell was already down, but it felt like a deserved justice for every thought that entered her mind. _She almost killed herself. She almost killed Mulder. How dare he._

She felt a warm hand rest on top of her own, a stark contrast to Modell's, as Mulder pried the gun away from her. He bent down closer to her ear and whispered, "Enough," before pulling her to his chest.

She let out a shaky breath as she stared at the S.W.A.T team surrounding Modell. "Scully," he murmured, but she couldn't take her eyes off of Modell.

"I-I almost shot you," she stammered. She felt her body going into shock but she couldn't summon the energy to stop it.

"But you didn't. You were strong," he soothed reassuringly.

"I-I almost shot you," she repeated. A new mantra head taking over entirely.

She felt a pressure on her arm, but she didn't budge until Mulder all but dragged her out of the room. Part of her registered Mulder handing the weapon to someone else, but everything was a bit hasty and there was a distant ringing in her ears.

"Scully, look at me," Mulder implored and suddenly he was filling her vision as he bent over to her eye-level. "We're okay," he stated slowly, taking her hands in his own.

That act of connection felt like it anchored her to reality and she let out a shaky breath. "I'm sorry," Mulder apologized.

"No, I'm sorry," she sighed. Her eyes flickering over as Modell was wheeled out of the room on a gurney.

She felt one of Mulder's hands cup her cheek and direct her focus back to him. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I almost killed you," she whispered.

"No, you almost killed yourself," he corrected, trying to keep his tone even, but a little agitation coming out nonetheless.

"Wouldn't the result be the same either way?" she countered, meeting his gaze evenly. "In the end, Modell knew that."

Mulder stood up straighter and pulled her into a hug, draping his body over hers like they were trying to meld into one. They both knew she was right.

**Author's Note:**

> I just find it so fascinating that Modell clearly has an interest in Mulder and Scully's relationship. He waited for Scully to be there to play the game and he admitted to reading her files too. Even Modell is a low-key shipper.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> -Nicole (Twitter/Tumblr: gaycrouton)


End file.
